Monday, 8 February 2016

I cried at the breakfast table this
morning, in front of my kids. I don’t do this often, if ever, but today I did.
My three year-old daughter looked at me with such concern and sweetness, and
quickly put her arms around my neck. I buried my face deep into her little
body, her purest of innocence.

All the while, thinking – I want this to be
a better world for you.

I have entrenched myself in the current
trial of Jian Ghomeshi. I am sorry I just had to write his name, because his
name feels like a mosquito in a swamp. It’s this swamp we’re all in, stuck in the glue of its shit, trying desperately
to get out.

Last November, when the story broke, it
sent a huge shockwave through me, and seemed to affect everyone I know – specifically
all the women I know – in a deep, sickening way. We were all deeply disturbed,
and we were sad. It was hard for me to put my finger on why exactly, why was I that
affected, seeing as I wasn’t really a fan or a
listener or a follower of him in any way.But there I was, disturbed and anxious, reading everything I could,
talking to everyone I could, trying to alleviate some of my emotion, and trying
to understand.

His trial started last Monday, and again –
here I am – a mess. My sleep is disturbed, and there is a general undercurrent
of anger and sadness inside of me.

I think we reach a place where we can’t
take anymore, and sometimes we don’t even know what that anymore is, until it
bubbles up and screams in our faces.

This is screaming in my face, this is
pounding away at my heart, this is chipping away at my gut.

I can’t take the violence.

I can’t take the silencing of women.

I can’t take the culture of rape.

I can’t take the way the world is.

I just can’t take it anymore.

I can’t accept that all of this happens,
and this is what we are supposed to accept, and this is what is normal.

Is this normal?

But again, I ask myself why – why am I so
upset? Because this story is about what we allow, and all the allowances I have
made. All the ways I have lost my power, and have used my body to get some power
and acknowledgement. All the times I have smiled uncomfortably when I should
have been yelling NO.

It’s all there, in my body. It’s a swamp.

It’s a dark green sludge of a slimy swamp,
and it has coated my cells. But now – now it is coming up. And in my view, it
is what is coming up in everyone. It is coming up because of this story,
because of this man, because of these women that are speaking up, and sharing
their imperfect truths, and because of our backwards system, that is
exemplifying its lack of protection for women. Because everywhere you go,
people are talking about this, and the news is plastering it on its paper and
soundwaves and screens.

It wants to change.

I am a 38 year-old woman. In my lifetime, I
have:

- had my legs rubbed in a weird way by a
60+ year old man when I was nine.

- been mugged in an alleyway while walking
alone, my jaw fractured, when I was 15.

- been stalked by a stranger when
travelling alone in Mexico, when I was 25.

- said yes countless times when I actually
wanted to say no.

- been groped, had my butt slapped, been
subject to countless comments about my appearance, been catcalled and whistled
at, been propositioned on the street countless times.

Because I can tell you, that if any one of
those things – any one – were to happen to my daughter, I would be cracking
skulls. Cracking them.

So where is the barometer here? Is it that
we are to expect at least some of this behaviour in our lifetime, and if we
don’t get too much of it, then we consider ourselves lucky?

Why have so many women that I know been
raped? Is this normal?

I need to tell you that it’s not.

I need to tell you that I can’t take it
anymore.

I need to tell you that it wants to change.

And I need to tell you that all of us are
in this swamp, and we need to get out.

My mom at the protest.

Me at the protest.

I don’t know how to get out exactly, but I
can tell you this: I will no longer be staying silent during any uncomfortable
moments. I will no longer try to “get what I want” by using my looks, my body,
my sex. I am going to call it out, from now on. I
will stand as a defender and protector to anyone who is mistreated.

Me and my People

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About Me

I'm a cookie mogul and an entrepreneur (check out my biz New Moon Kitchen). I'm also a mom and a wife and I have lots of tricks up my sleeve. All the time. I want to inspire others to feel that they can choose and design their lives.